Thursday, September 24, 2009

So, recently, I had begun to think nothing short of two broken arms could cause me not to want to write. Not true. As many know, I am expecting my fourth child. This in itself, wouldn't be a big deal, but the sickness involved. Ugh! I feel like crap.

This is an example of me writing...

He *I need to puke* stroked her skin *will this nausau ever go away* with the pad *oh my god(s), this sucks! I can't stop thinking about how bad my stomach feels* of his thumb in small circles.

Then I give up and get those few words in and that's it. Oy! Yeah, I'll be done by the time the baby is here, and this is a novella! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

So, my question to all of you is this. What stops you from writing, if any thing? Are you a get it done no matter what the situation, or do things actually cause an interference. I'd love to know what you all think!

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

While I researched Greek mythology for The Duende and the Muse, I came across some interesting info about Dionysus, God of the Vine - and his followers, the Maenads. Dionysus was madly in love with his mortal wife, Ariadne. One of the few gods to remain faithful to any woman, he mourned her for eternity. In ancient times, Dionysus became a master marketer to push his product: wine. He enticed people to drink by any means, and could be either friend or foe to humans. Sometimes both. The Maenads worshipped Dionysus, but also lived in complete freedom. They slept beneath the stars, sang and danced in the forests. And, oh yeah, ripped to shreds animals or humans they happened upon, and feasted on their flesh. As an immortal, Dionysus would, theoretically, still be in existence today. Still promoting his product. And still yearning for Ariadne. Or someone very like her...

Here's the excerpt from The Lure of the Vine:On the wall opposite his bed hung a portrait. The likeness stunned her. “Oh my God. How did you…?” When could he have had a portrait made of her?“She’s my wife.” He sat on the bed and stared at the painting, his eyes like glass. “Ariadne.”“Your wife?” She walked closer, the portrait almost breathing, as though she were looking in the mirror. “It’s amazing.”“When I saw you, it was as if….” He lay back on the bed, laid his forearm across his eyes.“Oh, Dion.” She sat next to him. Ariadne. She’d heard that name before.“I miss her so terribly.” Pain cracked his voice.“I’m sorry. If I had known….” She couldn’t finish–what? She wouldn’t have come here?He sat up and held her shoulders. “Ariadne. My princess.” His voice held an unfamiliar gruffness.“No. I’m Clio.” She pushed at his arms.With one swift movement, he twisted her beneath him. “The Fates brought you back to me.” The Fates. Ariadne. Dion…. Her mother had told her bedtime tales when she was growing up. The realization hit her. “Dionysus.” The God of the Vine. It couldn’t be, didn’t make sense.Hearing his true name, his face alighted with happiness. His mouth sought hers. A life force flowed from the portrait through Clio’s veins, overwhelmed her senses, as if she’d drunk a case of his wine. His wet lips traveled down her neck. The strap of her bathing suit fell away, revealing her breast. He suckled and nibbled at her. His fingers slid between her legs, his tongue tracing her ribs, then her hips. His tongue licked and teased. With a groan, she arched her back, inviting more, but wanting nothing of him. A swirl of thoughts stormed through her mind, fighting for dominance. Her writhing body screamed for completion. She clutched his hair. Her breaths came hard and fast, a wave of passion cresting within her.He slid his leg across hers, then hovered above her. “You are my queen again.”His words sobered her. Two desperate needs clashed within her, to reunite with a husband for whom yearning had surpassed sanity, and to escape, to find a husband she loved more than anything. Her words from her wedding night returned to her: I will do anything for you.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Here's the story excerpt:They talked about their aspirations as the steam evaporated from their cups. Krista confessed her literary insecurities while admiring the black flecks within his grey irises; eyes that invited close inspection. His lips likewise taunted her, whether involuntarily or not. She couldn’t tell if he intended to tease, or if he was just being nice. She hoped the former. Nice guys tended to bore her.Todd set his gaze on her. “Follow the age-old creed–write what you know.”Krista took the advice to heart, literally: what she’d known for the past two years was Ethan. She’d let him infiltrate her life, her apartment, her thoughts, herself. Thinking his invasion was laying the groundwork for a future, she’d dated him exclusively, rearranged her life to accommodate his likes and dislikes until she could no longer remember her own.She wrote to rediscover herself, divine her innermost thoughts and feelings. From their seemingly serendipitous meeting to their breakup, Krista chronicled and dissected their relationship, building to the crescendo of their eventual fall.She copied the first five pages for the critique group the following month. The chick lit writer said: “Your dialogue’s too stiff; make it sound more realistic.” “Make your prose more lyrical, but get rid of the adjectives and adverbs,” offered the poet. The mystery writer advised: “Foreshadow your events to build suspense.”Krista nodded, noting each writer’s advice for her revision. She spent the next two weeks pouring over each sentence, mercilessly slashing words, constructing setting and scene, the cadence of her prose flowing lyrically. Like music, the words streamed luxurious legatos punctuated with sharp staccatos as demanded by the scene. They lifted her spirit, excited her neurons in a way that made her hunger for more. The high of writing a well-structured sentence was addictive.As a bonus, certain aspects of her former relationship came clear. Ethan lived on the cutting edge of pop culture, always had to have the latest gadget, widget or gizmo. He was exceptionally good with technology. With people, not so much. Had she possessed the foresight to commit his faults to paper earlier, Krista might have been spared much heartache. The exercise allowed her to see, finally, that Ethan was an ass. By setting her emotions into words, she not only defined them, but her writing informed her self-definition.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Freya's Bower and Wild Child Publishing would like to congratulate Kenzie Michaels and Cate Masters for their new releases, Adrianne Brennan for her review and award, and Ronna Gage for her new review.

When Amber Johnson agrees to fill in as a last-minute chef of a dinner party, she is surprised to learn the client is none other than her ex-boyfriend, Marc Denton. The kitchen sizzles with their unfinished business; will the flames of love reignite, or will Marc's scheming father succeed in keeping them apart...

Krista's perfect happiness bubble bursts when Ethan tells her goodbye. Numbed at her new job, she soon faces an even colder dismissal. Only the hungry mews of her cat, Verisimilitude, snap her from her funk. A new beginning at a local book store brightens when cute Todd invites her to a writer's meeting...

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Freya's Bower has taken the chapter book Edge of Sanity and put it all together into one ebook, for one low price!

Detective Jake Gilford is skeptical when he hears Joss Wheeler say she believes her newly inherited house is haunted. He's a man of facts and hard evidence, and ghosts aren't on his radar screen. He's also a man, and Joss is a beautiful, if somewhat nutty, woman. Won over by her charms, he promises to stay and help her unravel the mystery of the house--or whatever else she has that might need unraveling...

He pressed his mouth against hers. "I want to make love with you," he murmured, their lips touching.

She wrapped one leg around his butt, pulling his denim-covered erection closer to her core. "I want that, too. More than anything."

He lifted her from the floor, and carried her to his room. At the edge of his bed, he set her down. "Here we are." He deftly unbuttoned her blouse, and his mouth followed the trail his fingers left. He had no trouble freeing her breasts from the white bra this time. As soon as they bobbed loose, he sucked a puckering, air-chilled nipple into his mouth. "Mmm," he moaned softly. "Ever since that first taste of you, I've been dying for another."

She chuckled deep in her throat. "Still sticking with the story that crab and beer are your favorites?"

Jake laved his tongue over her nipple and watched it peak. "Oh, no. Not a chance. I have a new favorite flavor, right here."

She arched her back, sighed as he moved to her other breast. "That feels fantastic."

"Yes it does," he teased. Both nipples were now taut nubs. He rolled the first between his thumb and forefinger, nibbling the second until she squirmed.

"You don't know what you're doing to me!"

Jake smirked. "Oh, I think I do. I've only just begun. I intend to drive you absolutely crazy." Before the words were out, he regretted them. If he could have retracted them he would have, but it was too late. They hung in the air, and he exchanged glances with Joss. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't worry about it. I don't feel so crazy anymore. You've helped me get over that. Shall we see what else you can help me with?"

Relieved, he grinned wickedly. "Oh yeah. I have a few ideas."

Copyright (C) 2009 Jamie Hill

Reviews:

"a wonderful story that sucks you in from the very first page...I can hardly wait to read book 2..."

4 Lips from AlishaReviewer for Two Lips Reviews

"This first installment is a treasure... From the first page to the last, Edge of Sanity, Book 1 had me glued to the pages..."

RoseReviewer for Romance At Heart

"With Jake and Jocelyn's relationship just beginning, I'm eager to find out just who or what is making those ghastly noises, and if their relationship lasts the distance."

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Monday, February 16, 2009

Freya's Bower would like to congratulate Sarah Masters, Dana Littlejohn, and R.E. Wood for their new releases.

One day sale only. On March 5th, to celebrate our three year anniversary, any purchase of any combination of ebooks over $7.50 is 50% off. Just enter the "Happy Anniversary" in the coupon code box and get 50% off. This code will be good from midnight PST March 5th to 11:59 pm March 5th PST. This code is good for both Wild Child Publishing and Freya's Bower sites.

Come join me on the March 6th and 7th at a booksigning in Las Vegas at EPICon and on the 8th as I give a workshop on improving your prose.

What happens when a hot guy finds out that his girlfriend has him as number three on her list of favorite men? Three is less than second best...isn't it? Or could there be some interesting fringe benefits to being number three?

Wild Child Publishing would like to congratulate Maggi Coleman for her release and Ric Wasley, Irene Pynn, and R.M. Parrish for their reviews.

Come join me on the March 7th at a booksigning in Las Vegas at EPICon and on the 8th as I give a workshop on improving your prose.

Casey's Luck by Maggi Coleman

When Casey Rowan finds her best friend Donald Broughton murdered and his wife Tessa unconscious, she embarks on a search for their attacker. The Devon police aren’t happy, particularly the man in charge of the investigation, DCI Roderick Carlisle...

"R.M. Parrish delivers a poignant young adult novel in THE I’M NOT YOUR PRINCESS DIARIES OF SHELBY SWEET: VOLUME 1, with which many teens and adults alike can relate... Parrish deftly depicts a turning-point summer for Shelby... I look forward to future volumes in this series..."

Super charge your career! Develop a keen business sense and learn how to find staying power in the publishing industry.

No matter where you are in your writing career, Savvy Business Skills will help you.

Savvy Business Skills for Writers: Book 1--Nuts and Bolts includes:

--Supercharge Your Career: 5 Steps to Creating a Dynamic Career Plan --Promoting Yourself on a Budget--Networking 101: How to Network Brilliantly at a Writer's Conference & Beyond --Working Smart: Time Management Skills Every Writer Needs (using the PLOT system: Prepare, Lay Out, Organize and Track)--No Fear Public Speaking: Even Introverts Can Speak With Confidence!

One of the complaints I often hear from agents and editors at conferences is how they feel the one area many writers can improve on is the business end. And, as an editor myself, I've noticed many authors while proficient in craft, flounder when it comes to business skills.

I'm a long-time entrepreneur, trained image coach, and workshop facilitator. I have long been in the business world and have helped many authors find their bearings in this challenging publishing business. I've written several articles on the business side of writing and often give presentations and online classes as well.

Super charge your career! Develop a keen business sense and learn how to find staying power in the publishing industry.

No matter where you are in your writing career, Savvy Business Skills for Writers will help you.

Savvy Business Skills for Writers: Book 1--Nuts and Bolts includes:

--Supercharge Your Career: 5 Steps to Creating a Dynamic Career Plan --Networking 101: How to Network Brilliantly at a Writer's Conference & Beyond --Promoting Yourself on a Budget--Working Smart: Time Management Skills Every Writer Needs (using the PLOT system: Prepare, Lay Out, Organize and Track)--No Fear Public Speaking: Even Introverts Can Speak With Confidence!

One of the complaints I often hear from agents and editors at conferences is how they feel the one area many writers can improve on is the business end. And, as an editor myself, I've noticed many authors while proficient in craft, flounder when it comes to business skills.

I'm a long-time entrepreneur, trained image coach, and workshop facilitator. I have long been in the business world and have helped many authors find their bearings in this challenging publishing business. I've written several articles on the business side of writing and often give presentations and online classes as well.

Release date--February 10th!

And look for Savvy Business Skills for Writers: Book 2--Branding and Promotion--coming in 2009.

Mistress Shadow works in a dungeon in the heart of the city. Each short story explores one of her clients and their predilection.

Masochist: Matthew Scott needs Mistress Shadow, though he acts like it should be the other way around. Can he shirk the stigma attached to his desires, or will he forever treat Mistress Shadow with contempt?

“Ah, I thought I heard someone comin’ up me path,” an old woman called over her shoulder.Gnarled hands lifted a soiled linen garment from the waters of the brook. Water dripped red beneath her fingers as she tried to wash away the blood. She stood before the fjord, a basket at her feet. Gray hair, long and coarse, sat high atop her head in a loose bun. Her back hunched beneath her faded moss green gown and looked painful in its disfigurement.

Tristan stopped cold in mid-step.

“Come ‘n’ sit, child.” The crone beckoned him with her crooked finger.

He did as she bade. No mere human could outrun magic, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try. Thus, he sat down on a stump an arm’s length away from her basket of soiled clothes.The coppery scent of blood hit his nostrils and filled his lungs. Bile rose in his throat. He gagged on the rising vomit, and his stomach revolted. Fear cemented him in place. He raised his sleeve to his face to lessen the stench.

The crone laughed, draped the wet garment over a tree branch, and shook the water from her hands. She turned around and squinted at him. Her shrewd gaze roamed over him before she hobbled to another tree stump that he would swear appeared out of nowhere.

The Bean Nighe sat down on the stump, her knees cracking with age. A sigh escaped her elderly lips. “Tis much better to sit.”

Only one tooth remained in her mouth. It jutted outward from her lower jaw. He caught her disapproving eye and realized he stared.

“Tell me, lad, what do they call ye?”

He lowered his sleeve from his face. “Tristan.”

“Tristan? Tristan. Oh, known many a Tristans, I have.”

She said ‘known’ and not knew.

The crone crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him once more. Her speculative gaze made him sit up straighter. “Do ye fear me, boy?”

He debated on his answer for a moment and wondered if her question could be a trick. If he said no, would she turn him into a newt?“Yes,” he said, his voice weak, honest.

“Good, ye should be afeared, laddie. Carelessness walkin’ about the woods not mindin’ where ye get yerself off to. A lad could lose his head doin’ such foolery.”

His stomach fell between his knees at her insinuation, and he gulped audibly.

“Tristan, let me tell ye a tale.” She paused for a long moment. Her speculative gaze narrowed on him, and he squirmed. “After me tale is done, all ye need do is answer one question and ye can go.”